𝟒𝟐 | 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲

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        𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐑𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓 was heard in a room of silence as consciousness returned

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        𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐑𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓 was heard in a room of silence as consciousness returned.

        Drop.

        Drop.

        Drop.

        Too weak to lift her heavy head, her eyes fluttered open to a dim-lit room. Her blurred vision caught sight of black pantsed legs walking toward her. A voice spoke but words failed to translate. Perhaps another language or she still hadn't woken fully. Just blobs of sound and strange colored lights. In one's hand, a clear bag filled with red liquid was placed with a pile of the same content. Oh, fuck, man, we're gonna be filthy rich. Greedy laughter echoed like ghosts.

        Drop.

        Drop.

        Drop.

        Frantic thoughts clouded as she tried to lift a muscle. Her veins were inflamed by a particular content that made her sick to the stomach, like she'd been heavily induced with a drug strong enough to weaken her system. Strong enough to realize she couldn't move an inch and any spare moment of feeling was all in her head. Bathed in a pool of sweat, nearly senseless, Deena no longer fought against drowsiness and closed her eyes to doze off.

 Bathed in a pool of sweat, nearly senseless, Deena no longer fought against drowsiness and closed her eyes to doze off

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